Of Profit & Pleasure
by TinkerbellxO
Summary: The Earl of Rochester returns to London after recovering in the country from smallpox to find his dear Barry out of favor with theater-goers. A new actress has taken her place that is rumored to be the best performer the London stage has ever seen. But John soon discovers her act extends far beyond the theater doors and decides to see how far she'll go to protect her secret.
1. The Earl Returns

**Of Profit & Pleasure**

_Summary: John Wilmot, poet, playwright and 2nd Earl of Rochester returns to London after recovering in the country from smallpox to find his dear Elizabeth Barry out of favor with theater-goers. A new actress has taken her place that is rumored to be the best performer the London stage has ever seen. But John soon discovers her act extends far beyond the theater doors and decides to see how far she'll go to keep her secret._

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Libertine._

_A/N: I am back with another story. Thanks to LinaLove for her inspiration and for listening to a frustrated writer talk on and on. Also, check out the banners for this story - she made them! I am forever in her dept. Hope you enjoy!_

Chapter One

The Earl Returns/A Piece of History is Found

_1684_

As he stepped out of the carriage his boots met mud and horse dung, not the wood plank of the side walk, nor the stone walkway that led up to his city estate. His lip curled in disgust. How he hated to break in new footmen.

He stepped up onto the path and looked over at the boy who appeared to be sweating. Whether it was from the unseasonably warm temperatures that burdened this early May morning or from fear of what his new master would do, the Earl did not care. He reached over and ripped the cravat right from the boy's neck, then leaned down and cleaned the filth from his shoes. He usually would never dream of doing such a thing himself, but he was realizing more and more that if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.

Once he was slightly satisfied with them, he stood back up and shoved the dirtied cravat down the waist coat of the footman who stood their looking as if he was about to cry.

"Next time I depart this carriage I will set foot on stone or wood or it will be your face that I wipe the shit from my boots upon," he said darkly.

It was only when the Earl of Rochester was inside the manor that the footman let out the breath he had been holding.

* * *

_2005_

Olivia fingered the delicate gold chain between her ring finger and her thumb, amazed that after more than 300 years it still retained its shine. The grand pendant that hung from it held a deep blue sapphire that was the size of the center of a large daisy. However the pendant itself was about the size of an American quarter. Intricate flowers were carved into the gold around the sapphire and three pearls hung from the bottom. The back was covered in a complicated swirling design and written around the circumference was a small line of text that had almost disappeared over the years. She tried to make out what it said with her magnifying glass but found it was not strong enough. She made a mental note to ask her supervisor for a better one.

She looked once again at the sack the pendant had been stored in and the description card that had been attached and read for at least the tenth time the origins of the beautiful piece.

The necklace had belonged to Lady Charlotte Fitzroy, b. 1664, the illegitimate daughter of King Charles II by one of his most notorious mistresses, Barbara Villiers, 1st Duchess of Cleveland. The necklace had not been a family or royal heirloom so where it had come from, no one knew.

In its more recent history it had been a gift from an anonymous donor to the Chiswick House Museum in the 1950s when the house was given to the Ministry of Works. But the 18th century building had fallen into disrepair and needed to be restored so the pendant had been put into storage and long forgotten. After all, Chiswick House was not the type of museum to display jewelry or other items of daily life, but it did have an impressive art collection.

Olivia had been hired as part of the most recent restoration effort on the House. She'd just completed her studies at Oxford in History of Art that May and had been working for two months at Chiswick House but was already finding her chosen path rather boring. One can only be interested in dusting off busts and telling off construction workers for walking on the priceless carpets for so long.

And until the box containing the sapphire pendant had been dropped on her work station earlier that day, she was seriously considering quitting and going back to her first love, acting. But now she was intrigued. Just from her studies she knew that pieces as grand as the one she was holding came with detailed histories. Most art historians could pick up a pair of earrings in a museum collection and tell you the ten most famous people that wore them and where they wore them and who they received them from.

But for the sapphire pendant, only the single owner was known. Olivia had the strong urge to try the necklace on, just for a moment. But she noticed the chain was broken and there was no clasp. She held it up again in her gloved hand and looking around the room, realized she had been left alone. The rest of her colleagues had gone home for the day. Quickly she slipped the glove off and gently set the pendant in the palm of her hand. A strange sensation overcame her; a feeling that was deep and dark and very intense.

Her knees started to feel weak and her breathing became shallow. A familiar warmth curled in the pit of her stomach. If she didn't know any better she'd think she was aroused by the pendant.

She heard footsteps echoing down the hallway, coming towards her. She quickly placed the pendant back in its sack and replaced her glove.

As she went to place the description card back into the sack, she noticed writing on the back.

_Diary missing – dated 14, July 1954_

That was all that was written. So the pendant came with a diary that had been missing for decades?

Olivia was beginning to feel like her summer internship might not be so bad after all.

* * *

_1684_

"Alcock!"

The Earl finally heard the hurried steps of his butler coming towards his study.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Finally," the Earl sighed, "be useful. Find out whatever play Ms. Barry is in currently and make sure that my regular box in that theater is available for tonight."

The Earl then waved his hand to dismiss his butler but the man did not move. At this John Wilmot cocked his brow.

"Is there a problem, Alcock?"

"Well, my Lord, it's just that - "

"Out with it, Alcock."

"My Lord, Ms. Barry has somewhat, fallen out of favor with audiences. She has not performed on the London stage for a season or two."

The Earl turned towards the window to hide his surprise. He had made Barry who she was and now London no longer loved his little project. How dissatisfying.

"My Lord there is one actress who has become quite popular with the public recently. I've seen her in a few plays myself. She's known equally for her talent and her extraordinary beauty."

The Earl rolled his eyes. He found the words "talent" and "beauty" were often bandied about too frequently for his taste. Most of what London found beautiful or talented he found to be boring and trite.

"And I've heard she is quite the hunter when it comes to the opposite sex," Alcock continued, "Well just this week I heard a rumour that she was caught down on her knees with the director of her most recent engagement, and the next morning she was seen leaving the estate of the play's patron."

The Earl turned to face his butler with a sly smirk upon his face.

"Well draw me a bath, set out my best clothes and then go to the theater and make sure my box is ready."

"Yes my Lord," Alcock made a shallow bow and turned before he was called back by his master.

"What does this actress call herself?"

"Katherine Parker, My Lord."

He let the name roll around on his tongue before he sat down and began to write.

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to review. Just a note on the historical aspect that will be heavily involved in this story:_

_This story will adopt an alternate universe look at the life of John Wilmot so unlike history, in our tale he does not die in 1680._

_Lady Charlotte Fitzroy was actually the illegitimate daughter of Charles II and thought to be one of his favorite children. She was known to be one of the most beautiful women of the day._

Chiswick House is a museum in London and it is more of a house museum than an art and artifacts museum though it's collection of paintings and busts are quite beautiful. It was giving to the Ministry in the 1950s but was in bad shape and underwent extensive repairs. In 2005 it received another face-lift.

Also, if you'd like to get an idea of what the pendant looks like, you can go to my profile page and click on the link.


	2. Katherine Parker

**Of Profit & Pleasure**

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Libertine._

_A/N: __Thanks to LinaLove not only for her review but once again for her support. Also thank you to dionne dance, Marie and __PrincessKanako __for their reviews. And may I present, Chapter Two!_

Chapter Two

Katherine Parker

1684

He watched from his box as the crowd whooped and hollered and clapped wildly as she finished her final monologue.

Shakespeare had never been his favorite playwright. The Earl had always found him too comical, and his attempts at bawdy humor were pathetic, at best. That was the old style of theater. Now that relics such as the Bard were in the ground, the Earl felt it was up to him to give London the education it rightfully deserved in more mature fashion.

But he had found Miss Parker's Katherina from _Taming of the Shrew _to be refreshing. And he saw for the first time someone that had actually captured the meaning behind that final speech. Although Katherina says she has found her calling as a submissive wife to Petruchio, the Earl knew Shakespeare's true intent was to be ironic. A woman like Katherina, the so-called "shrew" of the tale, could never be tamed. She had simply fallen in love and had found a whole new way to manipulate Petruchio by playing the devoted partner.

Up until tonight he had never seen any actress play the role as it was intended but this woman had embodied that sense of irony. And Alcock was right, even from the balcony he could see that Miss Katherine Parker had to be the most beautiful woman in London. Somewhat petite, but with a slight bosom, she moved with grace and dignity, more so than any commoner he had come across.

His eyes were not as good as they used to be so he hoped that he'd be able to sneak backstage to get a closer look at the belle of the London. He didn't bother to watch the last few lines of the play and instead swept from his box and hurried down the steps to greet the stage manager.

He had short words with him as the players took their final bows and after slipping him a few coins the man gladly showed the Earl to the dressing room area where he would find the comely Miss Parker. He surveyed the room and spotted her standing, half-dressed, in the corner with her back to the rest of the room.

He stalked through the rows of dressing mirrors amongst the rest of the actors and actresses that were packing up to go home or to meet their lovers. He knew a gentleman would wait until a woman was fully clothed to approach her, but John never fancied himself a gentleman.

He had planned exactly what he was going to say but just as he opened his mouth she held up a hand.

Without even looking back at him she spoke, "Please, spare me your pretty words. I know who you are and I know your reputation and I would rather not associate myself with a cad such as you."

The smirk almost left his face.

"And how do you know of that?"

"People talk, Lord Rochester," she replied simply.

"I am flattered, Miss Parker, that you should know all about my character when I know almost nothing of yours, except for the fact that you are toast of the town," he replied charmingly.

"And that is all you will know about me Lord Rochester," she replied as she turned to look at him for the first time.

His eyes widened slightly to take her in. He had met her before, he was sure of it. But he had been away from the city for half a decade and she looked no older than twenty. Surely he had not bedded her when she was just a child. He would not have met her at court because no actress had ever been welcomed to actually socialize with his majesty.

She was walking away from him, believing she had silenced him with that witty tongue.

"Have we met?" he asked her and she stilled.

"I do not believe so. What would an Earl have to do with a lowly actress?"

Her expression was fierce, as if daring him to continue. But the Earl was never one to be shy.

"Miss Parker, you yourself just informed me you are well aware of my reputation. I thought you'd know of my talent as an acting instructor."

"I know nothing of your talent as an acting instructor, but I know much of your talent as lustful rodent."

"Rodent, madame? I think myself more a rogue."

"Well you do think rather highly of yourself."

"I am here merely to offer my services to you Miss Parker," he drawled.

"And what services are those, sir? Lessons in acting or corruption of character?"

He stared straight into her sapphire blue eyes, "Whichever would be of more use to my Lady."

And then he bowed low without taking his eyes from her.

"My Lady?" she laughed bitterly, "Well, _my Lord_, as you heard for yourself from the reaction of tonight's audience, I hardly need an acting lesson."

"And from what I have indeed heard of you, _my Lady_, you are in no need of further corruption of character," he looked down at his coat and picked a stray string from the front.

"And where did you hear that?"

He chuckled darkly, "people talk, Miss Parker."

"Well then, my Lord, you should know that I need no further education in either field. Please make sure you inform the stage hand of your departure so he can lock up behind you," and with that she disappeared from his sight.

Lord Rochester's head fell back and a groan escaped his lips. His breeches felt tight; tighter than they had in years.

* * *

2005

Her eyes stung from staring at the computer screen for hours in the dark and now the sun was peeking through the bottom of the window shades in her room. She heard her roommate's alarm clock go off from down the hall. She had officially stayed up all night. And despite having tons of educational data bases to comb through, she had found very little on Charlotte Fitzroy. She decided to click to the next page, page 95, and if she didn't find anything she was going to call it a wash and go in late to work in hopes that she could get some sleep.

She scrolled down through the page until she saw a name she had not yet come across in her research:

_Katherine Parker_

She clicked on the article and skimmed its contents. Katherine had been a popular actress at the same time Charlotte had lived. She was known for perfecting the role of Katherina in _The Taming of the Shrew_.

That was all the article said. But why did an article on a London stage actress come up in her search on Charlotte Fitzroy? Were they friends? Lovers? Olivia had heard of such dalliances before; respectable women of high social standing who had a husband and children taking a female lover. But she had found nothing on a husband or children in her search on Charlotte Fitzroy. It was as if any detailed record of her had been wiped clean from the history books.

Olivia was starting to think that maybe she had been looking up the wrong person.

She directed her cursor up to the search bar and typed in _Katherine Parker_. When she saw the number of results that popped up, she knew she would not be going to work today, nor would she be getting any sleep.

* * *

1684

Alcock was surprised when his master returned to the manor that night. Usually on a night at the theater he would stay at the inn and employ one of the local harlots to entertain him.

"Home for the evening, my Lord?" he asked as he tried to clear the sleep from his eyes and take the Earl's cloak at the same time.

"Alcock, make sure that my box is available at the theater where Miss Parker is performing," he replied.

"Of course, my Lord, what night would you like to attend?"

"Make it an indefinite engagement."

* * *

_A/N: Just so you are aware. As of now this story is rated "T" but in a few chapters it will change to an "M" rating for Mature Content. Thank you for reading. Please review!_


	3. Roses

**Of Profit & Pleasure**

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Libertine._

_A/N: Thanks to LinaLove, dionne dance, UnicornTamer, Marie and Guest for their reviews! _

Chapter Three

Roses

2005

"Look at this carving, Will. Can you make out what it says?"

Her boss leaned in to look through the large magnifying glass she was holding.

She saw the skin around his eyes crinkle as he squinted.

"I think we're going to need a stronger glass," he said straightening up.

"I already have one on order. It should be here by the end of the week. I guess they use this strength of glass in sperm banks."

"That was a bit more than I needed to know, Olivia."

"Sorry, sir," she replied and a light crimson coloured her cheeks.

_When Olivia had first applied for the position at the museum, she pictured herself working for a little old man that wore lots of tweed and jaunty caps. Needless to say she was shocked when she walked into her interview to find a 40-something-year-old Jack White look-a-like. _

_Will had shaggy brown hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate. He was somewhat tall and lean with long fingers, like a musician's. He was not wearing tweed, but rather a pair of worn-in jeans and a velvet black blazer over a white tee-shirt. _

_She stood in the door in her pencil skirt, pumps and jeweled Peter Pan collar blouse, her portfolio and resume under her arm. She knew she should say something but found herself unable to speak._

_Instead she cleared her throat and this caused him to look up from whatever he was reading._

"_Who in the bloody hell are you?" he asked._

"Olivia?" he repeated.

"Hmmm?" she awoke from her day dream.

He dropped the pendant back in her gloved hand. Then he leaned down and took up a pen. He wrote down an address on a page in her notebook, ripped it out and handed it to her.

"I expect you'll get a start there," he said simply and then walked over to the next work station where Jamie was restoring a small painting of a young girl holding a doll.

Olivia packed up her stuff, grabbed her bag and headed out the door, the piece of paper clutched tightly in her hand.

* * *

1684

Fifteen red roses, roses the colour of blood, lay on her dressing table that night. And like the fifteen nights prior she passed them off to one of the girls in the chorus.

The first night when she found a single red rose waiting for her she wondered who would send her such a token. And, if she wanted to be honest, it energized her entire performance and gave her a bit of a thrill to think she had a secret admirer.

That was, until the Earl visited her after the play that night. Unfortunately he had caught her off guard as she was admiring the perfection of each of the petals.

"_Do you know what else resembles a flower?" he said._

"_If you are referring to a woman's tinderbox* then please spare me your company for, as you have said, I am well educated in what goes on between the sheets," she replied._

"_My apologies, Miss Parker, I was attempting to make polite conversation with you."_

"_And since when do polite conversations involve a comparison between flowers and a woman's nether regions?"_

_He remained silent._

"_Mary?" she turned to the girl sitting a few feet away from her. She was a red head with a large bosom and a crooked smile. _

"_Yes?" the Earl could swear he heard a faint Irish lilt in her voice._

"_For your performance tonight, from Lord Rochester" Katherine replied as she handed the other woman the red rose. The Earl's eyes widened in indignation._

_Mary held it up to her nose to take in its sweet aroma._

"_How lovely!" she giggled, "Thank you my Lord. How shall I repay you for such a thoughtful trinket?"_

_He spent that night with the redhead between his legs but all he could think of was the elusive Miss Parker. _

The next night he had sent two roses. The next, three, and so on. Though he was never pleased to see her hand them off, he had to admit that he hadn't had to lighten his purse for pleasurable company in over a fortnight.

On the sixteenth night she found the roses as usual, but when she picked them up to hand them to the lucky girl of the evening, she noticed something sparkling in the candlelight. Examining the bouquet more carefully, she discovered he had wrapped a garnet bracelet around the stems.

Quickly she called the stage manager to her side and made sure to rid herself of the burden.

When the Earl arrived at his seat that evening, he was very surprised to find a garnet bracelet lying on the cushion.

* * *

2005

She looked down at the paper and up once again at the number hanging above the door. When Olivia had set off to find the address Will had given her, she thought it might be some kind of small library he had sent her to. But there was no sign to be seen.

She walked up the steps to the grand looking brownstone and tried the door but found it locked. This wasn't any kind of library she was used to.

She rung the doorbell three times before anyone came to greet her.

"Can I help you?" an attractive older woman wearing what must have been a very expensive pantsuit asked.

"Uhh, I hope so," Olivia said, "Will Booths gave me this address. I'm looking for information on Lady Charlotte Fitzroy and Katherine Parker."

The woman's eyebrows disappeared underneath her perfectly coiffed bangs.

"You've come to the right place," she replied with a smile and she stood to the side of the door to allow Olivia passage.

1684

Something flew past her head and landed with a smack on her dressing table. It was the garnet bracelet.

"Why didn't you give it to one of your friends?" the Earl asked.

"I have no friends. Only acquaintances."

"Well then tell me, which acquaintance am I taking my pleasure from tonight?" he said cheekily as he scanned the room. Surely he had bedded every woman in this particular production. Except for Miss Katherine Parker of course.

She did not answer him in words, merely reached under the table and showed him the bouquet that looked as if she had used it to fight off an attacker.

"So how do _you_ plan to thank me?" he asked with a smirk on his face.

"I think a 'thank you,' will do," she said, shoving them back under the table.

"Tut tut my dear, as you know from the Bard's own words, 'The poorest service is repaid with thanks.'"*

"But I am afraid, Lord Rochester, that thanks are all I have, and care, to give to you."

"I have a feeling there is more you have to offer than pretty words, especially when they come from such a pretty mouth," he looked almost feral now.

"Alas, My Lord, all that you will receive from this _pretty mouth_, is words of rejection and condescension."

"You could perform for the king you know."

She stopped brushing her hair to look over at him and he continued.

"Under my instruction you could perform at court and if you're lucky, the King may offer you his services as a patron. It's every actress's dream."

"All monarchs I hate, and the thrones they sit on, From the hector of France to the cully of Britain."*

"You use my own words?" he looked shocked.

"I have no interest in performing for any kings or members of court of really anyone who is self-righteous and self-important. I merely perform for the love of the art."

"I only wish to teach you for the love of the art," he pleaded.

"I'm sure that is your only reason," she said as she finished packing up her things.

"I wish to be moved. I cannot feel in life. I must have others do it for me in theater."*

She took a good look at him and though his face still held that all-important smirk, it did not reach his eyes.

"Kindly tell the stage manager when you take your leave," she said as she placed the bracelet in his open palm, "And please, waste no more time trying to catch my attention. There may come a night you find this table occupied by another Katherina."

And sure enough, the next night he was surprised to find that when the Shrew made her entrance on stage it was not Miss Katherine Parker, but rather another actress who, the Earl discovered, had no idea what she was doing.

The mousy girl was annoying, whiny and quite frankly, a bore.

When the first act finished the Earl rushed to the stage manager, inquiring what had happened to his newest obsession.

"My Lord every few weeks Miss Parker allows her understudy to take on the role. No one knows where she goes, just that she takes the night off."

"But she'll be back tomorrow night?" he asked almost desperately.

"I should think so, My Lord."

But she wasn't. Nor was she the night after that. Had he driven her away? He didn't think her to be that ridiculous or weak-willed.

On the fourth night she was missing yet again. He left the play early and simply returned home.

Alcock was shocked to see him but managed to get his wits about him.

"My Lord, this came for you while you were out," and he handed his master a letter.

The Earl opened it carelessly and rolled his eyes upon reading its contents.

"Alcock, ready my best for tomorrow. I have been called to court."

* * *

_A/N: Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to review? Also: _

_*"tinderbox" was a term used for a woman's vagina_

_*__ "The poorest service is repaid with thanks," is a quote from _Taming of the Shrew

_*__"All monarchs I hate, and the thrones they sit on, From the hector of France to the cully of Britain," is a quote from _The Complete Poems _of John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester_

_*__"I wish to be moved. I cannot feel in life. I must have others do it for me in theater." – quote from John Wilmot  
_


	4. You lie in faith

**Of Profit & Pleasure**

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Libertine._

_A/N: Thanks to LinaLove, dionne dance, Marie and Bree __for their reviews! _

Chapter Four

"You lie in faith . . ."

2005

She stood in an elegant sitting room, waiting for the woman to return with the pot of tea she had promised her.

Looking around she spotted several items that she knew belonged in the Tower of London and two or three paintings that had at one time or another been loaned out to the Victoria and Albert Museum.

She walked over to a baby grand piano sitting in the corner of the room. The keys had to be ivory, showing the age of the instrument.

Just as went to press the "C" key she heard, "Here we go!"

She turned to find the woman had returned with a tea tray, two cups and some chocolate biscuits. Suddenly Olivia felt underdressed in her shirt dress and oxfords. She sat down in a chair near the table and waited for her hostess to pour her a cup.

"My name is Olivia Lee," she was hoping to spur the conversation with an introduction.

"Nice to meet you Olivia," the woman replied.

"Uhhh, and you are?"

"Oh, forgive me. My name is Elizabeth."

Olivia waited for a last name but it never came so she decided to move on, "Where am I?"

"What do you mean?" Elizabeth said she as she sat down on a damask upholstered couch.

"Is this a library or uhh . . ."

"Well, we have a library. But this is our home."

Olivia was caught off guard. Most people who lived in homes this grand and so near to Kensington Palace were descended from noble lines. As the daughter of an electrician and secondary school teacher, she had never thought she'd find herself inside such a residence. Maybe that's why Elizabeth had neglected to give her last name.

She took a sip of her tea from the delicate, and most definitely, ancient china.

"Will said I may find some information on Charlotte Fitzroy and Katherine Parker here. I have found very little on both women."

"Why are you looking for information?" Elizabeth asked.

"I'm working on the restoration project at the Chiswick House. We have a piece of jewelry that belonged to Charlotte and in my research I came up with very little on her except for her interesting lineage."

"And Katherine Parker?"

"Her name appeared in my research. I only know that she was a stage actress."

"The finest in London during the reign of King Charles," Elizabeth replied smugly.

"Yes well, I wish to know more about them so I can write up a detailed report for the exhibit we are planning at Chiswick House."

"Did you know that her mother, Barbara Villiers, 1st Duchess of Cleveland, died in Chiswick?"*

"I did not," Olivia felt excitement coursing through her, she was finally getting somewhere.

"She did."

That was all Elizabeth said before she took another sip of tea.

"Do you know anything else about them?"

"Wait right here," Elizabeth replied and disappeared once again. She returned a few moments later with an old, yet perfectly preserved book. She handed it to Olivia who took it in her hands delicately.

_The Poems of John Wilmot_

"Take it home and read it. Return here when you've finished it and we'll talk some more."

Olivia wanted to be polite, but she was becoming annoyed.

"Look, I don't know how this is going to help me in my research. Can you tell me about Charlotte and Katherine or can't you?"

Elizabeth merely smiled, "Read the book. I think you'll enjoy it."

* * *

1684

The Earl found himself bored to tears. The letter he had received requesting his presence at court said little other than that, but he had hoped the King had planned to honor him with another title, or maybe request another play for his entertainment.

But now he realized the King merely wanted the pleasure of his company to entertain him. And though he felt this to be a waste of his time, at least the monarch's liquor was plenty and strong. And Charles did keep a bevy of attractive ladies in his court. However as he looked around, Lord Rochester realized that he had bedded most of them and found none worth a second glance.

"My liege, I believe it is time for me to take my leave," Lord Rochester said hoping for a swift exit.

"Johnny, no! You've been away too long. I had hoped to introduce you to someone who's become rather important in my life."

"Another mistress, sir? Is this one after a title or your jewels?"

"No mistress, rather the fruit of Barbara Villiers, 1st Duchess of Cleveland."

"Was she not your mistress at one time or another?"

"I mean to introduce you to my daughter, Johnny."

"Not many men have the balls to say that to one such as me."

"Your balls will have nothing to do with my daughter if you want to keep that head on your shoulders," King Charles replied in a stern, yet playful, tone.

"If you don't mean for me to take her on as a lover, why are you so eager to introduce us?"

"She reminds me of you. Same cruel wit, same sharp tongue, and she is quite taken with your poetry and theater," the king took a sip from his glass and continued, "I always find your plays amusing but too, shall we say, bawdy for the ladies."

"Are you saying your own daughter, the daughter of the King of England, finds my raunchy humor entertaining?"

"She's clever, if she wasn't a woman . . ."

". . . and a bastard," The Earl interrupted and his King gave him a warning look.

" . . . I'd wish for her to be my successor."

"That's bold of you."

"And you don't believe your well-known affections for lowly stage actresses to be bold?"

The Earl ignored the question, "When will this long-lost daughter be joining us?"

"She was supposed to be here ages ago but I received a message that she had been detained."

"Maybe I shall meet her another time then," the Earl said as he stood up.

"My Lord," he heard a familiar voice call out from across the room.

Suddenly a woman in deep red rushed past him and approached King Charles. She bowed shallowly to him, her back to Lord Rochester.

"Ahhh, Charlotte," the King said and the Earl could see an affectionate twinkle in the older man's eye as he held her shoulders firmly.

"I would like you to meet my good friend and the man who will make my reign famous with his works of literature, John Wilmot, the Earl of Rochester."

"My daughter, Charlotte Fitzroy," King Charles said and he turned her forwards.

The Earl's eyes widened in surprise.

"You . . ." he started accusingly but she interrupted.

"It is an honor to make your acquaintance, my Lord," she said bowing to him.

He laughed darkly, "And yours, _my Lady_."

And then he took her hand in his and bowed to kiss it, lingering a little longer than necessary.

"Well," the King said happily, oblivious to the tension brewing between the two, "I am sure Charlotte would love to pick that perverted brain of yours. Please feel free to use my library. I would prefer the rest of my subjects not witness my daughter speaking about such things. People do talk."

"Indeed they do. After you, my Lady," the Earl said and he followed her to the study.

The moment they were alone he grabbed her arm and pushed her down into a plush leather armchair, trapping her by placing his hands on either arm. In the dim candlelight was only able to make out the shadows of his fierce expression.

"You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate,  
And bonny Kate and sometimes Kate the curst;  
But Kate, the prettiest Kate in Christendom  
Kate of Kate Hall, my super-dainty Kate,  
For dainties are all Kates, and therefore, Kate,  
Take this of me, Kate of my consolation;  
Hearing thy mildness praised in every town,  
Thy virtues spoke of, and thy beauty sounded,  
Yet not so deeply as to thee belongs,  
Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife."*

She clapped slowly at his recitation that had become more and more passionate as it had gone on.

"I am flattered, my Lord, but it is rumoured that you already have a wife and I do not believe my father would like it if I committed bigamy."

The smile grew more sinister upon his face, "A pleasure to see you again . . . _Miss Parker."_

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to review? Also:

*Barbara Villiers, Charlotte Fitzroy's mother, did die in Chiswick

*"You lie, in faith; for you are call'd plain Kate, . . . Myself am moved to woo thee for my wife."* - quote from Shakespeare's _Taming of the Shrew_


	5. Blackmail & Puzzle Pieces

**Of Profit & Pleasure**

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Libertine._

_A/N: Thanks to LinaLove, dionne dance, Marie and Bree for their reviews! _

Chapter Five

Blackmail & Puzzle Pieces

2005

Olivia had read and reread the book Elizabeth had given her several times. And though she appreciated John Wilmot's perverse humor and dark take on love, she wasn't entirely sure how this would help her find anything out about Charlotte Fitzroy and Katherine Parker. She had thought this book would hold all the answers she needed, but she was beginning to learn that not all was as it seemed.

And Will wasn't helping at all. When she had returned to work that day and showed him what she had brought back he laughed loudly.

"You might want to read that in private," he had said and then walked off to take a look at another colleague's project.

It was now 10 p.m. on a Saturday night in London and she was alone in her flat. Her roommate was out on one of her numerous dates and judging by the height of her heels and the length of her skirt, Olivia doubted Becca would be back that night.

She let her head roll back as she sat in her desk chair. Another Saturday night in, doing research; such was the life of an art historian. Of course, that wasn't exactly true and Olivia knew that. She just wanted to think that her job was too important to spend any time socializing with anyone that hadn't already been dead for centuries.

The truth was a small part of her would have loved to have been out on the town on this beautiful August night. But even more than that, she wanted to find out the mystery revolving around the sapphire necklace.

She let out a sigh and sitting back up straight, she typed into the EBSCOHost browser bar "John Wilmot_._"

When she saw how many results that came back, she knew this was going to be another long night.

* * *

1684

"So like the Bard you enjoy the art of deception. Miss, what was it?"

"Fitzroy," she replied flippantly.

"Ah yes, Miss Fitzroy," he leaned down closer to her, "my, my, my, I wonder what daddy would say if he found out his only darling daughter was employed in an occupation no higher than that of a common whore?"

She remained silent.

"Shall we find out?" he asked her innocently.

"I never deceived you. I never told you that my name was Katherine Parker."

"But that is your stage name, is it not?"

"Is an actress not allowed a stage name?" she asked.

"An actress, yes. A possible heir to the throne . . . I think not."

"Oh please, I will never be crowned queen. As far as the court is concerned I am merely a complication. I know many of my half-brothers laughed when they discovered great King Charles had sired a girl."

"I bet if they familiarized themselves with your wit and wisdom they would be concerned for their own place in the line for the throne."

She was taken aback; he was paying her a compliment. Whether he was aware of it or not she wasn't sure but it was surprising nonetheless.

"They say England is still recovering from the reign of Elizabeth; that the English people would not welcome a queen so soon again with open arms."

"Especially one that opens her legs so willingly," he remarked smugly and all thoughts of his previous compliment left her.

"Another assumption. My Lord, as we have discussed, people may talk but that doesn't necessarily mean what they say is true."

"Do you or do you not enjoy many a gentleman caller?"

"I have been called upon by many gentlemen. That is true."

"And yet you claim your purity is still intact?"

She laughed charmingly, "Now I never said that, my Lord."

"Then with that out of the way you should be able to enjoy many a tumble between the sheets with many different suitors," he stood up straight and walked to the other side of the room.

She let out a small breath she had no idea she had been holding and stood up to follow him across the room.

"There is something extremely pleasurable in being selective about a bed partner. It makes them feel honored and with that I get exactly what I want from a lover."

"And what is that _Miss Fitzroy_?" the name still felt foreign on his tongue.

"To be worshipped, of course."

"Like father, like daughter. Which brings us back to the matter at hand: what would your dear father do if he found out you were late to court because you were playing to hundreds of commoners at the theater?"

"He won't find out," she replied firmly.

"What makes you think I won't inform him of your many indiscretions immediately?"

"Because you have your own indiscretions that I am sure he would not like that I have seen firsthand; using your title to obtain free drink and board whilst you spend your money on fine clothes and fornication. And I would not hesitate to reveal to him certain names you have used to insult his highness."

"I have been banished from court for such deeds and worse and yet he has brought me back time and time again. He cares not what I do nor what I call him, only that it doesn't create a great scandal," he paused and turned to her.

"Now, tell me, why will I not tattle on you?" he moved towards her like a great lion eyeing its prey.

"Because you enjoy having power over me."

"Are you suggesting you have something to offer me that may buy my silence?" he said in mocking voice.

"I know I will regret asking this but do tell, what will it take, _my Lord_, for you to forget what you have discovered tonight?" she held her ground but the Earl could sense her discomfort.

He placed a finger under his chin as he hummed to himself. She waited patiently for his reply. That's all she could do. After all, if she had known her father had invited the Earl to court that evening, if she had known he would be there, she would have declined the King's invitation. But she had not known . . . and she had come . . . and now he knew. Charlotte did not believe in harping on the past, merely accepting the present . . . and also hoping his proposal was agreeable.

He started to circle her. Closer and closer; so close she could feel his breath tickling her neck and the silk of his waist coat brushing against her back.

"Acting lessons."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, "pardon?"

He came to stand in front of her.

"Acting lessons. I will tutor you in the art of acting."

"As I have said before, I am in no need of acting lessons," she laughed incredulously, "I am the toast of the London stage."

"And in three months' time you will be forgotten. But with me as your instructor, you will become immortal."

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, "And that is all you require of me in exchange for your silence?"

"Did you have something else in mind? If I didn't know any better I would think you want to warm my bed," and a lascivious grin spread across his face.

"Meet me at the theater, tomorrow morning," she said and she made her way to the library door.

"A moment, _Miss Fitzroy_," the Earl called and she stopped.

"You shall come to my manor tomorrow. Wear your morning dress and no jewelry. Your hair will be pulled away from your face and you will not apply face powder or rouge."

"I will do no such thing," she replied.

"You shall do as I say or suffer the consequences, my Lady."

Her eyes were on fire and he could see her body tense.

"Very well, my Lord. Until tomorrow," and she gave him an exaggerated bow before slamming the library door in his face.

* * *

2005

"John Wilmot, 2nd Earl of Rochester, poet, playwright, blah blah blah, I've already read all this," she said aloud to herself.

It was nearing 4 in the morning and, as she had predicted, Becca was not back yet. But Olivia wasn't concerned. She had found a fascinating character in Lord Rochester. But he was becoming just another piece of the puzzle and she hadn't even begun to fit together the few pieces she already had.

"A fondness for actresses, one of his famous students was Elizabeth Barry," Olivia yawned, "After retiring to his country estate to recover from an extended illness, he returned to London to find Barry had fallen out of favor to be replaced by Katherine Parker. He then steered Parker's career to great popularity."

At this her eyes widened. Finally! It wasn't much, but it was something. Now she just had to figure out what the two had to do with Charlotte Fitzroy.

She heard the door of her apartment slam and footsteps hurrying towards her room.

"Olivia?" she heard Becca whisper as she knocked timidly.

"It's open," Olivia called.

Becca opened the door. Her face was red and her eyes swollen from obviously crying. Her dress was torn and she was missing a shoe.

"What happened?" Olivia said as she rushed over and embraced her friend.

"He wouldn't take no for an answer," was all Becca said as she burst into tears.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading. Please take a moment to review?


	6. The Lion's Den

**Of Profit & Pleasure**

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Libertine._

_A/N: Thanks to LinaLove, dionne dance, Marie and Bree for their reviews!_

* * *

Chapter Six

The Lion's Den

1684

She walked to the Earl's house that morning. She knew she should have called around the carriage since his manor was a good hour's walk from her home but the last thing she wanted was for the footman to see her wearing a morning dress without any sort of adornment. It was unseemly for a woman of her status to go out in public as such.

It had been a long time since Charlotte had been up this early. Between her duties at court and her nights at the theater, the mornings she took as time for herself. And the servants never questioned it. She figured they probably enjoyed the time off as well.

As she walked through the streets of London on this exceedingly warm spring day, she took in everything around her. The sights of grocers selling their wares and men returning home after a night at the inn, probably hoping to sneak in before their wives found them missing; the feeling of the warm breeze upon her face as the sun peaked over the bridge, it all seemed to warm her heart. Even the reek of the gutter refreshed her.

Except for the nights she was able to sneak away to perform, Charlotte was always accompanied by a servant, a suitor or a chaperone anywhere she went. For Charlotte, the theater was her escape. It was her chance to be anyone but herself. She could bask in the glow of Romeo's affections or exert her power of her people as Dido, the Queen of Carthage. And the emotions that swept over her as she embodied Desdemona and Ophelia were overwhelming. It was cathartic for her.

On stage her possibilities were endless. At home, her possibilities were to marry well and produce children.

She strode purposefully up to the front door of the Earl's manor and knocked forcefully. After her third attempt a rather tall but odd looking butler opened the door. He immediately noticed her state of undress and cleared his throat.

"And who might you be?" he leered.

She blanked. Should she give her real name, or her stage name? Which one would the Earl have given to his butler?

"I am Miss Katherine Parker. Lord Rochester is expecting me."

"Ahhh, I know who you are," he said slyly, "'fraid the Earl isn't home yet."

So he hadn't come home last night, she noted.

"May I wait for him inside?" she asked.

"Of course," he said but as she made to step through the door he blocked her way.

"But you must enter through the servants quarters," he smiled nastily.

"Pardon?"

"Master's orders," he shrugged his shoulders.

She had half a mind to turn around and leave the house and never see the Earl again. But she knew that she could not. Not now that he knew her dirty little secret.

She let out a sigh and with a roll of her eyes made her way around the back of the manor.

The butler met her at the servants' entrance and led her into a small parlor that looked as if it was used very little. Dust covered the tables and chairs. He left her without a word, without even offering her a cup of tea. However it was too hot for tea. And with only one small window, she found herself becoming a bit stifled.

She sat on a chair in the corner of the room facing the door. She had a feeling that when it came to Lord Rochester, she always had to watch her back.

* * *

2005

Olivia had just finished helping Becca fill out the police report when she got the text:

_Where the fuck are you?_

It was the fourth text that she had missed from Will, her boss whom she had forgot to inform that she would be late to work that day.

After Becca had come home that night Olivia had immediately taken her to the Chelsea and Westminster Hospital to be examined. When she told the ER nurse that the young woman had been raped, the nurse immediately phoned the police.

Olivia held Becca's hand as the doctor explained to her that she had not suffered any lasting physical damage, but that obviously she would call in counseling to help Becca with the emotional trauma she was no doubt experiencing.

For Olivia the whole situation was rather frightening. Becca was an out-going, flirtatious yet intelligent woman who always had a smile and a kind thought on her lips. But now as she sat in the hospital bed in the drafty gown she looked numb and frail. Her hands would not stop shaking and they were clammy.

Olivia had called Becca's parents who lived just east of Cambridge. They told her they were on their way immediately but they didn't get their before the police so Olivia had to inform them of what had happened to her friend.

But now that Becca's family had arrived and the police report was all made out, Olivia figured it was time to get out of there.

She looked down at herself. She was still wearing the pajama shorts and tee shirt she had had on when Becca had come home. She'd have to change before going into work.

She took out her phone and texted Will back.

_Going to visit Elizabeth._

* * *

1684

The Earl stood over Charlotte's sleeping form. Alcock had immediately brought his master to the back parlor after informing him that the woman had arrived an hour and a half ago.

And though the Earl had not planned on returning home this late in the morning, he was glad for this moment of silence in her presence. He was always so distracted by that delicious mouth and sharp tongue of hers that he rarely saw past her wit. Now he could examine her physical characteristics.

She had cheekbones as sharp and graceful as her wit, with a button nose. Her eye lashes were a thick fringe that rested upon rosy cheeks. And her pink plump lips were slightly parted to reveal just the front white teeth.

Her hair was a chocolate hue, with a natural curl that she had pinned atop her head. He could see there was a sheen of sweat upon her long neck and in the heat of the day a few tendrils of hair had become lose and wet and now stuck to her chest that was rising and falling with each breath. He reached out, a greedy smirk upon his lips, to brush the hair away from her bosom when suddenly –

SMACK!

He had been so distracted by the white mounds hiding beneath the rather plain material of her dress that he hadn't notice she'd awoken.

He laughed bitterly and looked into her irate face.

"The last time I encountered your mother she too assaulted my person. The only reason she wasn't locked away in jail was because the king lived between her thighs."

SMACK!

"I may not agree with my mother's choices in life, but I never thought I would need remind you that when our King demands something, he is not denied it," her words were fierce and succinct.

"Especially when what the King wants is accomplished by simply lying on your back and the profits are so easily reaped," he bit back.

"You speak as if you have experience sir. I wonder if the king has had you bow for him in his private chambers?" she stood up carefully, aware her words were harsh, and walked to the window.

He approached her and placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

"For our King there are many different kinds of servitude. I would beware of spending too much time with him, my dear, for who knows what purpose he has in mind for someone as precious as you," he warned.

She turned her head and caught the serious gaze upon his face.

"Why did you request my presence at your manor, Lord Rochester?"

The gaze faded to be replaced by the knowing smirk she had come to despise.

"Well, my _Katherina_, I always thought an actress' duty was to dance around the truth. But if we are past the niceties, let acting class," he clapped his hands twice, "commence."

She let a confident smirk play on her lips but she couldn't help but feel she had just entered the lion's den.

* * *

A/N: I apologize for being so long in updating. I have three words that will explain my absence: work, flu, blizzard.

Thank you so much for sticking with me! Updates will come more regularly now. Promise!

Please R&R?

Tink


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